


Lifeline

by LeFay_Strent



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Fluff, Gen, platonic lamp/thomas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-10-07 02:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17356919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeFay_Strent/pseuds/LeFay_Strent
Summary: Unable to help himself, Patton reached out to ruffle Thomas’s hair. The other sides rolled their eyes, knowing what would happen, except—Patton’s hand.It made contact.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post: https://raspbirrypancakes.tumblr.com/post/181823698272/i-like-the-thought-that-if-any-of-the-sanders

The first time it happened had been an accident. 

Thomas had wrapped up an evening spent with his friends. Not working on anything, not stressing to create new content. Just him, his friends, fun games, and tasty snacks. As Thomas bid the last of them farewell and shut the door to his apartment, his cheeks hurt from how much he’d been smiling all day.

Pleasantly tired, Thomas wandered back into his living room and flopped onto the couch.

“If you fall asleep now, who’s going to clean this mess?” a familiar voice asked. Of course it was familiar, since it was his, but the words from this particular side was always spoken so much more concisely.

“Can you not rain on our parade, Mom? Today was full of adventure! We need to recharge for whatever battles await us tomorrow! The mess can stay another day.”

“Ignoring your false reference to me as a mother, procrastinating will only—”

“Did someone say Mom? Because I’m Dad!”

“I’m glad you’re here, Padré! You’ll be my sidekick in the fight against Mother Gothel.”

“Oh, what’s the matter, Ro?”

“He’s being really mean and I don’t like it!”

“Seriously? You’re ‘tattling’ on me to Patton? Just because you don’t want to pick up some trash and clean some dishes?”

“Well if you find this _little_ mess so distressing why don’t _you_ just clean it up, Pointdexter?”

“What part of _we are not real_ do you not understand?”

“Now, now. Even if we’re not real, we should _really_ calm down. Roman’s right, it was a big day today. We don’t want to stress Thomas out, now do we?”

All eyes settled on Thomas. He laid there, sinking into the cushions and smiling dopily at them.

“I’m not stressed out at all,” he told them.

Everyone looked towards the stairs for confirmation. Virgil sat on the steps, leaned back casually.

“Nope, not even bothered,” he said.

Roman glanced him up and down. “What, no clouds today, Stormy Daniels?”

“We just spent all day with Thomas’s friends and nothing bad happened. I think I’m good.”

“Oh,” Roman said awkwardly. “Well, uh, splendid! It was indeed a good day, wasn’t it? A toast to us!”

“With some eggs?” Patton said. “And bacon? And pancakes? All of it together in the most wonderful, fantastic breakfast sandwich?”

“Blueberry pancakes?” Virgil asked, perking up.

“All the blueberries you want, kiddo!”

“Cool, breakfast for dinner it is then.”

“How about it, Specs?” Roman asked. “Would the promise of crofters get you to lighten up.”

“The mess will eventually need tending to,” Logan pointed out. He turned his head to the side, averting his gaze. “But I would not be averse to a meal, no.”

Thomas’s stomach was growling, now that he thought about it. All he’d had recently was candy. He sat up and looked around the room, all of his sides in complete agreement and smiling at the promise of breakfast food. Things had been good lately, but it’d been a long while since he’d felt this overwhelmingly satisfied.

“I’m so happy,” Thomas murmured, smiling to himself. He looked to his sides with bright eyes, wanting to convey through expression just how much he was feeling. Predictably, the core of his feelings was the first to react.

“Awww, we are too, kiddo!” Patton cooed, jumping in place. Unable to help himself, he reached out to ruffle Thomas’s hair. The other sides rolled their eyes, knowing what would happen, except—

Patton’s hand.

It made contact.

Thomas froze immediately. Patton was a little slower, his fingers brushing over brown locks, actually _moving_ them before his grin died down. He stopped completely, hand frozen over Thomas’s head, barely resting his palm there but still enough that Thomas felt the pressure.

“Thomas?” Patton questioned, looking the most vulnerable Thomas had ever seen him. His eyes were wide and unable to look away from where his hand touched him.

Not able to comprehend, Thomas glanced over at the others. He couldn’t see Roman from this angle with Patton’s body blocking him, but Virgil and Logan were staring on, still as unbothered as before. However, as Patton gathered the courage to move his fingers a bit, Logan noticed the motions. His face pinched, perplexed.

“What are you . . .” he began, trailing off as it became more apparent that Patton was carding his hand through Thomas’s hair. It was as if any of his friends were doing it, so tangible it was. When Patton pressed his palm down flat on Thomas’s head for a moment, he could feel the warmth radiating from the skin.

He could _feel_ Patton.

“What, is something wrong?” Roman asked. Meanwhile, Virgil started looking worried. He leaned forward, hand gripping the stair railing as if he were about to stand up.

“Are you . . . actually touching Thomas, Patton?” Logan asked, taking a step forward. “You . . . you’re not passing through him. How can that . . . I don’t understand.”

“What?” Roman asked in confusion. And Virgil was definitely standing now, but Thomas’s attention shifted back to Patton. A sheen of wetness covered his eyes.

“I can feel you,” Patton whispered, voice choked. “You’re here . . . I’m here . . . It’s—it’s so soft. I can feel it.”

“But that’s impossible,” Virgil said. “We’re not . . . we’re not . . .”

Real. Logan had just said as much earlier.

Long ago, when his sides first started showing up, Thomas had pondered long and hard about reality versus imagination. People generally weren’t able to see and talk to versions of themselves as if they were real people, unless they were hallucinating. But through a lot of sleepless nights and a heavy dose of denial, Thomas had come to terms with it. Because in the end, his sides were a part of him and in fact made his life better. What was so crazy about that?

But this?

“Thomas?” Patton asked carefully. He ran his fingers through hair once again, scratching slightly at the scalp. “Can you feel this too?”

Thomas didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded. Nodded so small because he was so afraid of disrupting the tentative contact between them, yet Patton saw it all the same. He lit up, sucking in a stream of air, and trembling visibly, he pulled Thomas close and hugged him tightly.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Patton admitted, voice catching. Thomas could _feel_ the material of his shirt dampen at his shoulder. “Every time I was proud of you . . . or every time you cried . . . I felt it too and I just wanted . . . Oh, _kiddo_.”

Thomas looked over Patton at the others. Each of their faces were the most emotive he’d ever seen them. Even Logan openly displayed his feelings, his expression looking almost tortured at the newfound discovery and bewilderment that came with it. He bravely walked forward, hand rising in hope to touch at Thomas’s hair the same way Patton did. Thomas stopped breathing as he watched the shaky hand approach.

It passed right through him, the same as always.

Logan grimaced and snatched his hand back like he’d been burned. For some reason, Patton remained fully tangible, clutching Thomas for dear life.

Roman and Virgil watched in sympathy as Logan backed up to his usual spot. His hand gripped his arm at the elbow as he stared holes into the floor.

Patton continued to weep softly and, completely overcome, Thomas gave in to the feeling and raised his arms to return the embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

Things were different after the possibility of touch entered the equation.

It took Patton a long while to let go that first time. Roman had to intervene. He caught on to just how overwhelmed Thomas felt and inched his way forward, a placating hand raised.

“C’mon, Padré. Thomas could probably use a little space after this revelation.”

Patton sniffled and shook his head rapidly against Thomas’s shoulder, gripping him tighter. Thomas’s hands grasped onto the cat hoodie Patton wore nowadays ever since Logan gifted it to him. Never had Thomas thought that he’d be able to feel the softness of the material. It was a strange thing to think about, how realistic even Patton’s clothes felt.

It felt a little too real. With the suffocating tension in the air, Thomas tried not to feel guilty for wanting to pull away.

Roman attempted to coax Patton away a couple more times before Patton said weakly, “But what if I let go and I can’t do this again?”

And it broke Thomas’s heart. He loved his sides, he did, but what if Patton was right? What would it mean? What did this mean right now? What did Thomas _want_ it to mean?

He didn’t know . . . and what he didn’t know kind of scared him.

“Pat,” Roman uttered, taken aback. Eyes pleading, he turned to where Virgil had been standing on the stairs hugging himself.

Virgil offered a hard stare in return. A silent conversation passed between them. He opened his mouth a couple of times, and if Thomas had to guess what he’d say, it’d be something along the lines of, “He’s not wrong. This might be a one chance fluke, and you really want to take that away from him?” However much Virgil brought to the table, it wasn’t typically positive reassurances.

But a quick glance at Logan swayed the tide. He stood incredibly still, fingers white where they gripped his arm.

“Logan?” Virgil asked cautiously.

Logan sank out without a word. An electric sensation skittered up from Thomas’s stomach to settle uncomfortably in his chest and throat. Logic had left the building. Now there really was no hope of understanding any of this.

Virgil cursed quietly, smacking his fist against the wooden banister. Face stormy, he hopped off the stairs to come help Roman. He wasn’t used to being gentle, but Thomas could see how much he tried for Patton. It stirred Patton more than Roman’s attempts had and, letting Patton clutch his hands, he pulled him away.

“We can catch up with Thomas later,” Virgil consoled. “S’not like he’s going anywhere we won’t.”

It didn’t matter. Patton wilted against him like they’d never see Thomas again. Virgil had to take a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Later, Thomas.” Virgil gave a two-finger salute and sank out with Patton. It wasn’t until they were gone that Thomas realized his cheeks were wet.

He wiped at his eyes. “I must look a mess,” he chuckled, not really feeling any mirth.

“Nonsense. Manly tears are still manly.” Roman grinned with a wink.

He laughed again. “Roman . . . what am I gonna do?”

“Your best.”

“I’m serious.”

“Well so am I.” And from the firm set of his gaze, Roman truly was serious. “You’ve always been your own worst critic, yet despite that you always strive to do your best. Even when you’ve forgotten your lines, or you trip and fall, the show must go on.”

“Yeah . . .” Thomas nodded uncertainly.

There was a lot hidden under Roman’s little analogy, a lot not being said. He could see it in the stiff set of Roman’s jaw and the way he shifted from foot to foot.

If Logan flat out left, then how must Roman, the center of his confidence, feel about all of this?

He tasted the question on his tongue but in the end waited too long.

Roman cleared his throat. “Worry not, Thomas. We’re all in this together.” Then he sank out.

Thomas blew out a long breath. “Life just got weirder and more stressful and my fanciful side is making _High School Musical_ references. I don’t know how to feel about anything anymore.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. It was absurd really. Everything that happened was absurd.

Okay, he might be the tiniest bit hysterical.

Having lost his appetite, Thomas skipped eating and went upstairs to go to bed despite knowing he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

* * *

 Thomas didn’t see his sides for some days after that. Any other time, their absence wouldn’t be questioned. Occasionally they didn’t pop up for a week or two. They showed up even less when Thomas surrounded himself with other people. Of course, anyone else couldn’t see them, but they showed up less around others because they tended to be distracting. There had been some close calls with his friends and family asking what he was looking at or who he was talking to.

That being said, the next morning Thomas jumped out of bed far too early and drove to his parent’s house. They were still dressed in their pajamas but welcomed their son in all the same. When his mother asked about the surprise visit, Thomas shrugged.

“Just missed you guys,” he said with a half-smile.

His mother took that for what it was. Things in his life were out of whack and he needed something to ground him. She didn’t pry, only led him to the kitchen and enlisted his help with fixing breakfast. Thomas gladly did so. He stayed and visited and didn’t leave until nightfall.

The next day, he invited Joan and Talyn over but they were busy. Thomas scrolled through his other contacts before tossing his phone aside with a groan. What he wouldn’t give to be able to talk to any one of them, tell them _everything_ that was going on, but this wasn’t their burden to bear and he didn’t want to think about any of it right now anyway. Even simply reaching out to ask to hang with them seemed a monumental effort.

He wanted to drive back to his parents’ house, but they’d seriously question him for the two-days-in-a-row visits. 

Then again, the alternative of staying here? His little apartment didn’t seem so little lately, the rooms as empty and eerie as caverns. It was hard to go back to the living room, to see all of their spots, like any moment they’d pop back up and he’d have to face them—

Luckily, his phone chimed with a distraction. His friend Camden wanted to meet up to go over some video editing and Thomas might have replied a little too quickly.

They got together and Thomas lost himself in working. A surge of motivation spurred him on and he’d never been so focused and productive. It paid off when they wrapped up much sooner than expected.

Camden took note of it, joking, “Who are you and what have you done with Thomas?”

Thomas laughed it off, and he knew Camden meant it as a joke but he felt antsy after that. Did Camden realize he was overeager about the work? Too driven where typically he’d be prone to distraction? Could Camden see how off he was, or was Thomas just hyperaware of every time Camden looked at him, afraid he’d see too much?

Suddenly that feeling of wanting to run away from his problems took a one-eighty and screamed at him to leave. No one would catch on if no one was around to see him. Thomas didn’t want to think about what might show up when he got home, but on the other hand he desperately needed to keep his problems to himself. He probably came off as abrupt when he told Camden he should be heading out.

At home, his apartment was just as empty as he’d left it. It might not stay that way, but for now Thomas relaxed.

Or tried to anyway. He went upstairs to take a shower, ignoring the fact that he’d already taken one that morning. He stayed in there longer than he needed to, the water running too hot against his back. Eventually he climbed out, dried off, and slid into a comfy pair of shorts. He closed the lid of the toilet to sit down and let his damp bangs hang in his face. He stared at the bathroom sink for the longest time.

He grabbed his phone and shot a text to Joan. He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

 

**Joan:** _Love you too, dude. Sorry today was a no go._

**Thomas:** _Don’t worry about it. I managed to have a productive day._

**Joan:** _Yeah, I heard about that from Camden._

**Thomas:** _…what do you mean?_

**Joan:** _Nothing really, except he did ask me if something was up with you._

**Thomas:** _I was just really focused today, lol_

**Joan:** _Okay, cool. If something was up though, I’m here._  

 

Thomas bowed his head, resting his forehead against the heel of his hand. His phone hung loosely from the other, and for a minute he had to restrain himself from just outright calling Joan.

The phone chimed again.

 

**Joan:** _I’d hide a body for you. Like I’d question you, but I’d still do it._

 

It surprised Thomas into a laugh. Tears in his eyes, he typed into his phone.

 

**Thomas:** _Thanks. I think I really needed to hear that. Nothing’s really wrong, I just feel like . . . a lot’s changing recently and I’m just being dumb._

**Joan:** _1) you’re not dumb, I will fight you 2) is this about the new office space we’re getting?_

**Thomas:** _No. Maybe? Idk, just been feeling off the past couple days._

**Joan:** _I know you’re not a fan of big changes, but not all changes are bad. Just think about how fucking cool that office is going to look when it’s done._

**Thomas:** _Thanks Joan, you’re the best._

**Joan:** _< 3_

 

Not all changes were bad.

Thomas didn’t understand what this new development with his sides meant. He didn’t know if he was going crazy, or going crazy- _er_ he should say. He didn’t know if he’d be able to touch them again or how all of them felt about this. He didn’t know what it would mean if Patton was the only one, or why he had been able to in the first place.

Just like the first time he started seeing them, he went through a lot of inner turmoil that led to him accepting his sides as a part of him, a part that was more beneficial than harmful.

They made his life better, right?

Changes were scary, but he didn’t have to be afraid of this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of this chapter hit me by surprise, because I was going to keep going and progress things with the sides, but Thomas has a penchant for avoiding his problems and I realized he needed to sort himself out first. Plus, I'm really in love with the realistic aspect of what it'd be like if you saw these sides of yourself. Like, okay, I hallucinate sometimes, but I'm fine. But then the 'hallucinations' suddenly are able to touch you? How does a person deal with that, having their whole reality unravel? The canon universe that the real Thomas has created is honestly fascinating from a psychological perspective, and I've always kinda wondered how the character Thomas has dealt with accepting seeing mental projections of aspects of his personality on a somewhat daily basis.
> 
> Anyway, I'll try not to take too long with the next update, but I do want to try to get the new chapter for my other story Variants out next. Fingers crossed!


	3. Chapter 3

When his sides inevitably did reappear, he didn’t expect Logan to be the first to show up.

“If you fail to correct your posture now, it could negatively affect your health.”

“Logan!” Thomas exclaimed, flinging out his arms to keep himself from falling out of his seat. He’d been sitting at the dining table going through his business email on his laptop. Behind him, his logical side stood in his usual spot by the stairs.

Logan adjusted his glasses calmly. “Salutations, Thomas. As I was saying, though you may not notice it at the time, sitting at your computer as you were doing attributes to back and neck pain, stress on your joints which could lead to arthritis, digestive issues which can lead to acid reflux or—”

“Careful, Logan,” a deep, graveled voice interrupted. “You’re stealing my thunder.”

Thomas snapped his head to his left to find Virgil sitting on the table beside his computer. Although his sides tended to like their living room spots the most, they could pop up anywhere. That didn’t mean it wasn’t odd to see Virgil away from his regular spot while Logan remained in his usual place.

Or maybe it was just because of all the thoughts that had been plaguing Thomas since he last saw them. That was sure to make anything weird.

Logan glanced over at Virgil, expression unreadable. “I’m always careful. As for the latter part of your statement, I suppose you mean to say your metaphorical thunder; however, I’m not sure how I could ‘steal’ that.”

“It’s supposed to be _my_ job to stress Thomas out.” Virgil leaned back on one arm, hand braced against the tabletop while his feet rested on one of the dining chairs. His position should have been a relaxed one. Head angled down, he looked through a fringe of purple-stained bangs to level a hard stare at Logan.

“I only seek to ensure that Thomas maintains a healthy lifestyle through the use of facts. And as you are well aware, that is _my_ job.”

“If your job is to be a nagging mom, then yeah, I’m aware.”

“What is it with all of you likening me to a mother in a negative context?”

“Guys?” Thomas questioned quietly. He thought this would be one of those times where they’d keep on going, not having heard him. Instead they zeroed in on him immediately. The sudden intense stares pierced into him. He tried to smile. “Why so serious?”

Logan scoffed, shoulders stiff and hands held together in a lecturing stance. “I’m always serious. I have to be if anything is to be done around here.”

“Logan, that’s not—” Thomas went to say because they had been over this kind of conversation before, but Virgil beat him to it.

“Maybe nothing needs to be done at the moment,” he growled, teeth bared.

Logan’s brow raised. “And this is why I have to always be the serious one, because frivolous nonsense is reserved elsewhere.”

For a second, Virgil’s mouth hung open. The air chilled between them, cold enough to suck breath from lungs. Thomas suspected a lot more was being said than he understood. It was like watching parents trying to act normal in front of their kid after having an argument in the next room. And wasn’t that a freaky thought? Thomas knew that they had conversations away from him, inside the mindscape, but it had never felt more disconcerting than it did now, to think of what the pieces of him did unbeknownst to him.

Almost like they were real people, people who he suddenly felt like he didn’t know so well anymore.

Virgil shot a hurried look at Thomas. He didn’t know what he must have saw there, but Virgil quickly schooled his lips into a scowl.

“This is bullshit,” Virgil muttered, turning away. “Princey! Code stupid, or whatever.”

“ _Virgil!_ ” Roman rose up in front of the tv, arms falling from his regal pose to point accusingly at the darker side. “We agreed that it would be ‘code blue’ considering— wait, why are you all over . . .”

Roman frowned in observation at their location. Upon spotting Logan, his eyes widened for a brief second before he dived into action, running to hop over the couch with a grunt of, “Parkour!” He landed between the table and Logan.

“Whenever troubles block your way, your prince shall come to save the day!”

“If by ‘save the day’ you mean ‘interrupt an ongoing conversation that has nothing to do with you’ then yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“If it had nothing to do with me then it was obviously not a conversation worth continuing.” One hand on hip and eyes closed as his head turned to the side dramatically, Roman raised a hand to gracefully gesture at his face. “Go ahead, you may shower me with praises.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, sharing a glance with Thomas to shake his head. Thomas smiled weakly, more focused on Logan at the moment.

Arms crossed, Logan stood there unimpressed. He offered no retort. Which was a good thing, right? Because Thomas worried that this would turn into a full-blown argument, and he felt unprepared to play mediator at the moment since usually that was Patton’s—

Logan turned to look across the living room, gazing for a long, drawn-out minute at the white blinds.

“At this rate, nothing will get done,” he commented. Then he sank out.

Roman drooped, pouting. “He could at least put up a decent fight.”

Virgil smacked his arm. Roman gasped and smacked his arm right back.

Having grown up with brothers himself, Thomas knew they were about to squabble. He knew it and he couldn’t take it.

“ _Hey_ ,” he called their attention sharply, throwing an arm out between them. Both of them flinched and avoided the limb at all costs, Roman jumping back and Virgil nearly falling off the table.

. . . okay, that kind of stung a little. Even worse was the spooked way they watched him now.

Were they afraid of Thomas? Or of themselves?

Thomas swallowed. He tried his best to remember Joan’s words and let that give him the determination to do what needed to be done.

“What was all that about?”

They looked at each other first in that way that screamed they knew exactly what Thomas meant but didn’t want to be the first to spill the beans. Roman stood up straight, offering a dazzling smile.

“Whatever do you mean, Thomas? You know how things usually go with us. We’re a rowdy bunch!”

“No, no.” Thomas denied, shaking his head. “I know how things usually go and that wasn’t . . . usual. There’s something going on here, something that you aren’t telling me, am I right?”

Virgil avoided looking at Thomas altogether. He let Roman do the talking. “Nothing that you don’t already know, I assure you. You know how Sir Thinks-a-Lot is, repressing the fact that he’s as human as the rest of us.”

Thomas could leave it there. It’d be the easy way out. Laugh it off, let things go back to normal. Forget the looming sense of unease and uncertainty.

Forget the other day ever happened.

Thomas folded his hands in his lap, eyes fixed on Roman, imploring and earnest. “I don’t think that’s all there is to it.”

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you,” Virgil muttered.

“There’s already a lot that I don’t know,” Thomas pointed out, “and I’m not the only one it’s hurting.”

Silence fell on them. Not for the first time, Thomas wondered where the line was drawn between himself and his sides. How similar had their thoughts been running these past days? Or could he fathom what they were going through?

Roman put his back to them, bracing his arms on top of the couch, head bowed. Likewise, Virgil refused to look at him. He sat there hunched in on himself, hood having been pulled up. Without being able to see their faces like this, Thomas could imagine they were anyone. Anyone with their own problems and fears. Anyone he could reach out to, if he dared.

What would it be like? If he were to grip at the arm of Virgil’s hoodie and tug. Or to place a steady hand at Roman’s back? Could they feel the weight? Would they want to?

_You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this._

That’s what Patton had said. But that was Patton. Did the others . . . did they ever think that way too?

“Please talk to me,” Thomas whispered, unable to bear the pounding silence.

They said nothing. Thomas drowned in the absence of sound, the tide of questions cresting over him, until an ocean spanned between them. His heart twisted in his chest, and he felt the inexplicably urge to cry.

More than anything, he wanted to understand himself.

Because they made his life better, right?

_I want to make their lives better too_.

From behind him, someone spoke softly, “This is my fault.”

Thomas looked over his shoulder to see Patton round the corner from the kitchen. His eyes were as sad as his smile. The other two sides seemed taken aback at his appearance. Virgil slid off the table, ready to approach Patton if Roman hadn’t gripped him by the elbow. Amazingly, Virgil let him without protest.

“Patton?” Thomas questioned. “How is any of this your fault?”

“We’ve all been thinking about it,” the fatherly side chuckled. “Even if it’s hard, or we might not want to. What happened, happened. We can’t change the past, just how we deal with it.”

“Pat,” Roman began but Patton hushed him gently.

“It’s alright, champ. I know what you’ve been up to. I know you care, but I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Protect you from what?” Thomas asked, glancing back and forth between his sides. What in the world was going on?

“From myself?” Patton confessed with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. He took one step in front of the other, stopping almost a foot away from Thomas. They were the same height, all of them, but from where Thomas sat, he’d never seen Patton look taller. “I don’t think I’ve been setting a good example for my kiddos, lately.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, voice barely a whisper.

“It’s okay to be scared, Thomas,” he said, smile understanding. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, their eyes at the same level. The corners of his eyes crinkled with fondness. “It’s okay to hide when you need to. But Thomas?”

A hand rose, palm facing up.

“We can’t hide forever,” Patton said and waited patiently.

Thomas scrutinized the hand. It was his, same lines drawn on skin, same tiny freckles scattered here and there, same thick fingers spread out. But at the same time, it wasn’t. This was Patton’s hand, and Thomas could feel everyone’s eyes on him, though he didn’t look up to check.

If Patton could do it, so could he.

He hung his own hand above Patton’s for a moment before bringing it down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might have lied when I said I'd update Variants first . . . I was just really inspired to continue this!
> 
> Comments are welcome. ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

Thomas rolled out of bed at a decent hour and prepared himself for the day. He dressed with going to the gym in mind, planning to meet up with a friend there. It was amazing how motivated you could be to stay in shape when you had someone else to work out alongside with. Whistled tunes filled the air, and Thomas went so far as to wink at his reflection in the mirror just to giggle at himself.

It was a start to a good day. He’d go burn off some energy and calories, and then he’d cool down at home with some script writing for a video.

Thomas smiled to himself and opened his bedroom door.

“BE PREPARED!!!” Roman bellowed out in the middle of a flying leap.

“AAAHHHH!” Thomas screeched, throwing up his arms to shield his head and closing his eyes to wait for the impact.

The impact never came of course.

“Ow,” Roman groaned from the floor, sprawled face-down in the carpet. He pushed himself up partially, looking around as if to see where things went wrong. His eyes caught on something shiny under the bed. “Oh look! A quarter!”

“WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS?!?!” Thomas demanded, heart still very much pounding frantically. “And was that a _Lion King_ reference?”

“One of these days, Thomas!” Roman vowed. He hopped up easily to his feet, whirled around, and jabbed a finger at him theatrically. “One of these days you will know my princely embrace!”

“One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack!” Thomas held his hands to his chest, just to make sure said heart wasn’t going to beat out of his ribcage.

“I can kick him. Just say the word,” Virgil offered from the doorway. If Thomas hadn’t already been frightened within an inch of his life, he would have jumped at Virgil suddenly being there.

“The only one who I will allow to kick me is Thomas himself!” Roman declared. His eyebrow lifted dramatically, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Of course, if he thinks he _can_ , that is.”

There were a lot of things Thomas admired about Roman, his steadfast determination being one of them.

But even Thomas’s patience wasn’t infinite, and this had been going on for _weeks_. Weeks of surprise-tackle attempts and challenges daring Thomas to do what he was coming to believe to be the impossible.

And yet, seeing the shine of hope time and time again in those similar brown eyes, Thomas couldn’t deny him.

He just didn’t have to be happy about it.

Thomas shuffled over and, with all the power he could muster, he swung his leg at the speed of a dying turtle.

“ _Ehhh_ ,” was his war cry.

His foot passed through Roman’s leg harmlessly.

Roman looked equal parts worried and offended. “Thomas. I’ve seen toddlers more spirited.”

“What do you expect? I’m a pacifist.” Thomas sulked. “It’s not like I want to hurt you.”

Roman gave a hearty laugh. “Hurt me? Impossible.”

“Challenge accepted.” Virgil snapped his fingers. A cloud of thick smoke billowed out around Roman’s head, startling one of his shrill screams out of him and making Thomas’s eardrums cry in agony. His arms waved about to dispel the darkness.

“Oh my god,” Thomas couldn’t help but blurt after the smoke cleared. Behind him, Virgil choked on a snicker.

Roman’s angry face was covered in gothic make-up: white foundation, black circles around his eyes, and dark lipstick.

“Are you _trying_ to give me lung cancer?” Roman coughed. He looked like he wanted to go on a tirade, but spotting their expressions, his face went carefully blank. Mechanically, he turned to the nearest mirror.

“It’s not that bad,” Thomas tried. Roman still screamed bloody murder.

“I LOOK LIKE I JUST CAME FROM A KISS CONCERT!!!!”

“What can I say except you’re welc—” Virgil began, only to have to duck as a hairbrush came flying at him. “ _Watch it_ , Princey!”

“My face! My precious _face_! How am I supposed to woo anyone like this?!”

“Just don’t. Effort is overrated anyway.”

Patton had to step in when Roman went for his sword. He popped up beside Roman, firmly grasping his wrist to lower the weapon.

“Now Roman, I’m gonna have to ask you to _cut_ that out,” Patton said. He was smiling and the puns were there, but no one could doubt his seriousness.

“That emo _nightmare_ started it!” Roman defended himself. “He used his powers for evil to ruin my face!”

Patton turned to Virgil, and maybe it was the ‘Dad’ look on his face, but Virgil flung out his arm to point at Roman. “Because _he_ keeps going around scaring Thomas.”

“I’m not scaring him intentionally! That’s just what’s happening anyway!”

“Newsflash moron, if you know it’s going to happen, then you’re _intentionally_ doing it!”

“I’m not doing it to scare him!”

“Then why do you keep doing it?!”

“Because I want to be special too!”

Dead silence.

Roman caught up to what he said, breath catching in a gasp as he realized the way everyone stared at him. His eyes darted between all of them. He took a step back.

Thomas didn’t like the way he looked like a cornered animal. Nor did he like the implication of what Roman just said.

It had been clear from the beginning what Roman had been up to with all his ‘surprise attacks’. If he couldn’t ease a physical connection into forming between him and Thomas, he’d startle it into working. As if whatever it was that made touch possible between Thomas and his sides could be blindsided if Thomas didn’t know it was coming.

It was a crazy, frustrating, yet somewhat endearing plan by his creative side.

Thomas just hadn’t fully grasped how the plan had been born of desperation.

Born of jealousy.

“Roman,” Patton called to him, voice filled with anguish, love, and guilt. He held his arms out to him, but thought the better of it. He stood there, hands clasped anxiously together.

For weeks Roman had been trying. And for weeks, Patton had been the only one able to reach Thomas on a physical level.

Whenever Patton would reach to Thomas—whether it was a pat on the back or to ruffle his hair—it was always initiated with this awed hesitance, like it frightened him to think that this time it might not work. And every time, his whole body would slump in relief to see that his hand didn’t go through Thomas.

He still didn’t understand it, but Thomas felt the same.

Patton popped up more than ever nowadays with every kind of excuse to help Thomas with his daily life, and Thomas was glad for it. The hugs didn’t feel so suffocating anymore, now that he wasn’t so scared of himself. It was something that he cherished.

And it wasn’t something that all of his other sides had yet experienced.

Thomas had no idea where Virgil truly stood on the matter. He popped in unexpectedly, made cryptic comments, same old same old. He never tried to touch Thomas, nor did he express any interest in doing so. But Thomas noticed that whenever the topic came up or whenever Virgil watched Patton giving Thomas physical affection, he got quiet.

As for Logan . . . well, he hardly showed up these days, and when he did it was at the oddest of times. If the others were around or if Thomas tried to talk to him to clear the air, he’d act like nothing happened or that nothing was amiss. Or he’d give his input and duck out before the issue could even be brought up.

Roman on the other hand . . .

He was trying _so hard_.

Roman hugged himself tightly, jaw clenched, shoulders stiff, and the very picture of closed-off. He tapped one booted foot against the floor.

“Hey, Princey,” Thomas said in a soothing tone, putting as much care into his words as he could. “You know you’re special even if we never end up figuring this thing out. You know that, right? I’d never think less of you for it. You mean the world to me.”

The tapping foot stilled. Eyes closing, Roman turned away from them, facing the corner. Thomas feared that he would sink out. That he’d shut them out.

Just like Logan did.

“Roman? Kiddo?” Patton prompted.

Roman let out a heavy breath. “Yes, I know, I know.” He waved a hand over his face, and to Thomas it reminded him of those days before a big performance, those nerve-wracking minutes he stood behind the curtain before his cue and had to pull his composure together. Roman spun back around, face clear of make-up and all signs of distress. He beamed at them. “Of course I am special! One failing or several does not define who I am, only what I do after! And Thomas, as your passion, your courage, your _creativity_ , I will not give up here!”

He strode past them all regally, head held high. Even Virgil leaned out of the way to let him through the doorway.

“No more dallying! We have a gym to conquer!”

“Annnd he’s gone,” Virgil commented.

It took Thomas a moment to collect himself after Roman’s abrupt change. Maybe too abrupt? Roman did embody a lot of his acting skills. It was good to hear that Roman would keep trying. Thomas just didn’t want him to beat himself up inside along the way.

“Yay?” Thomas cheered.

A pat at his back turned his attention to Patton. He smiled kindly at him, optimistic. “We were planning to make today a good day, right? The day’s still early!”

“Yeah . . .” Thomas agreed. Well, more like he _wanted_ to agree. Was he just overthinking this? He looked to Virgil, the embodiment of his overthinking. “Any thoughts, Virge?”

Virgil pushed off from the doorway he’d been leaning back on. “Just thinking about how everything can go wrong, but what’s new?” Without a backwards glance, he swept out of the room as well.

 Patton followed after, suddenly waving around a kitty poster with the words ‘Be Positive’ written on it. Thomas shook his head and fell into step behind him.


End file.
